100 themes of England
by Live-Like-its-heaven-on-earth
Summary: 100 themed challenge with England... Female England to be precise. Female!EnglandxVarious!
1. The First Ten

**The First Ten:**

**1. Introduction **

.

Albion found herself in a strange land. The water behind her danced mockingly: a graceful and tragic show that made a jibe at her inability to swim, and her imprisonment far away from her home. The Roman Empire had won and forcibly dragged her to his own land.

She spent the rest of the daylight hours watching the spiteful waves, and as the Roman Empire did not call for her to return she continued watching them throughout the night, hoping for a glimpse of her home land. And when the sun rose the next morning she was still no closer at seeing her home.

She heard footsteps approaching, and prepared herself for the idiotic Roman to make some stupid remark that she was sure to answer back with a sarcastic drawl. The man did not scare her, though what he could do did.

She sat down and curled in on herself, determined to ignore the other Nations presence. She wasn't going to do what the man wanted her too willingly, she wasn't scared to defy him no matter the consequences; he'd already done so much already.

"You're Britannia, right?" A young and sweet voice questioned.

Emerald eyes glanced to the side sceptically only to find a boy a bit older than herself. He had wavy blonde hair that reached his shoulders, bright blue eyes that were too strange a colour to place to one particular blue.

"No," she scoffed and turned away, she refused to be called by such a… degrading name!

"But Rome said that that's your name," the boy smiled, and skipped over beside her. He looked her up and down once, before he started to play around with her hair that was slumped against the ground.

"Your hair's nice…" she flustered at his comment before she saw him frown. "But my Mother said guys aren't allowed their hair past their shoulders, it's barbaric!"

"I'm a _girl_!"

.

_And that was how their relationship had started…_

_France_

.**  
>2. Love <strong>

.

Guinevere smiled as she saw lovers give each other the heart shaped embroidery. Despite what other thought, she believed Valentine's day needed to spent a little more romantically… just having a meal for the Saint seemed a little sad, for the Saint had, had such a romantic soul.

Of course only her colonies and such knew she had started celebrating the holiday as something much more, she didn't need for snide remarks from France about her letting her feminine side show… or something ridiculous like that. No, it was better to enjoy the holiday in her own way while she could, she was sure America would find out soon from Matthew or someone and then the rest of the world would soon follow (Alfred was sure to talk… loudly).

She smiled despite herself as she saw a man fluster as he gave his wife a heart and the woman hugged him happily. It didn't matter who found out really did it? It might be fun if other Nations started celebrating in a more romantic way, as long as she didn't have to put with any of the idiotic Nations that was.

She turned as she felt a tug on her sleeve. Matthew stood awkwardly with his arms behind his back. He wore the smart clothes that she had given him and he promised to only wear them on important occasions, because he didn't want to damage them.

"Hello Matthew," she smiled warmly, having to look up slightly at the lad, he had grown thankfully not as quick as his brother, but he had nevertheless.

"Guinevere…" He muttered and paused as though trying to remember some speech he had pre-planned, his face lit up brightly in embarrassment as he hesitated.

"Are you ok Matthew?" She questioned, and worriedly put a hand to his head. His face only got brighter.

"I…"

"You feel a little warm Matthew you're not coming down with something are you?" She fussed as he slouched back slightly.

"I-"

"It's always so cold back in your home country," she commented idly. "I worry about you…"

"He… Here…" The wavy haired blonde managed to splutter, pulling his hands in front on his self.

There was a heart the same colours as the Canadian flag, with a fine white lace attached to the edge. The cuttings weren't to a professional standard, and a bit of the lace had been cut too close compared to the rest.

Guinevere looked up, and couldn't help the silly smile plastered on her face. She pecked both of the nervous Canadian's cheeks, with a "Thank you" and made a note to make him a scarf or something back in return.

Maybe the holiday would be more fun with everyone, but for now she'd have fun celebrating with one of her most loyal… friends…

.

_His heart would always be a step away from her, even when he returned to his home land…_

_Canada_

.**  
>3. Light <strong>

.

Leon, as he happily started calling his self once he had gotten used to his new language and home, clung onto one of the trees in England's massive and impressive garden. She had offered to build him a tree house in one once she realised how much he enjoyed climbing, but he had politely declined, he wasn't going to be there for too much longer so there was no need to remind her of his disappearance once he left (he saw how she looked every time a Nation left her).

He jumped easily through the branches the little forest like area at the bottom of England's garden was perfect for climbing and hiding. He had been calmly waiting at the end of the garden when he spotted long blonde hair at the woodlands entrance.

"Leon!" He heard the voice that accompanied the blonde haired woman. Her voice was much gruffer than most female voices, as she had spent many years barking out orders to her people and she had on many occasions purposefully made her voice deeper to intimidate, but nevertheless her voice still had that softness that could only belong to the opposite gender.

"Leon!" She called louder, probably thinking he was deeper in the woods, when he was really just a few branches away.

He crept silently along the branches until he was above her.

"Where is that boy?" He heard her mutter as she tried to peer through the dense darkness that the tree brought with them. He heard the worry etched into the blonde woman's tone, she always over worried about things, claiming something could always go horribly wrong the next time.

He lowered his self off the branch and dropped carefully in front of her, he didn't want to hurt her from a clumsy slip after all.

"Leon!" She called in surprise, placing her hand over her heart in surprise; she took in a quick gasp of breath before narrowing her eyes at him: a clear sign she was going to scold him.

She opened her mouth, only to scream out in surprise as a loud banging noise appeared overhead. She jumped forward into him and turned quickly in an attempt to fall into her usual fighting stance. She stared up at the firecrackers that Leon had left there as he smiled to his self.

He loved watching England's surprised faces, and loved that the fireworks light always caught her at the right angle, and as he grew older he loved the way she jump into him as though she felt safer with being in his arms. Of course he didn't enjoy being reprimanded afterwards…

.

_The light from those firecrackers always reminded him of his old home but now they revealed something far better…_

_Hong Kong_

.**  
>4. Dark <strong>

.

"Sadiq…"

"Ah… Guinevere." The man in question flashed a grin that was all teeth, his rough and unshaven chin rested easily against his knuckles, his elbow claiming the table before him. He was slouched across the chair he had taken as his own for the evening, but had somehow made the action not one of unclothe behaviour, but one of grandeur that screamed of the riches he had managed to seize over the centuries.

His free hand gestured towards the seat next to him.

"Care for a seat?"

Emerald eyes analysed the man's every move, before slowly with practised grace slid into the seat, eyes not moving from the figure for a second. Sadiq made no movement, as his eyes silently watched Guinevere. The woman was an enigma to him, one second she was seemingly hiding her gender under mountains of clothing and trying to hack away at her latest enemy, then the next second she was still trying to destroy her enemies, but in a dress that had far too many layers for her to be able to move as easily as she did…

An Enigma… albeit a _very _intriguing one.

"A question Sadiq," the blonde said after a moment of silence, her calculating eyes never leaving him, he'd find it endearing if it wasn't for that deadly spark that her eyes just weren't able to conceal. He made no indication for her to continue. She carried on anyway.

"Why would an Empire as vast and deranged as yourself accept an invite from one of your greatest enemies?" She questioned her eyes as fixated as before, as his eyes, hidden by the mask, glanced towards the enemy in question. Portugal.

"I mean if France, or even Spain were to invite me to one of their awfully boring social gatherings I would've shot the messenger they sent dead, then returned him with my reply," she laughed lightly as though recalling a humorous memory.

"A question myself Guinevere," he slid back into the chair more, having no problem relaxing with the blonde watching him like a bird of prey would a juicy meal. "Why would a deadly, but beautiful woman like you come gallivanting over to your closest ally's enemy?"

The blonde laughed in what could only be considered good naturedly.

"Why of course, dear Portugal asked me to play nicely tonight," her eyes lit up as she surveyed the room, emerald eyes coming across the narrowed hazel eyes that belonged to her ally. She smiled and waved lightly before turning back towards Sadiq. "And there was no way I was going to be able to play nicely with Spain lurking around- like he is."

Sadiq hummed in agreement, he had noticed how Spain would always prowl around Portugal if his brother was talking to Guinevere. Portugal always seemed to tolerate his brother's annoyance, but looked more on edge than usual, more likely than not because Spain had driven England off so she decided to sit with his Turkish enemy.

"Though I am highly curious…" She droned as she tapped her chin thoughtfully.

"If it's why I'm here-"

"No, no," she laughed, dismissing the suggestion with a quick hand gesture. "I mean don't we all go to these social gatherings when invited? Even to our rivals or most hated foes ones?"

"I thought you'd kill France's or Spain's messenger," The masked Nation joked, grinning.

"Of course," She laughed again. "But that doesn't mean the reply they'd get was necessarily negative."

"So what has sparked your interest, Guinevere," The man sent her a look he knew she wouldn't see. "You don't seem the type to dwell on things for far too long."

"You don't know me well enough then Sadiq," she sent him a look that mirrored his own. "But, your mask is what has caught my curiosity."

"My mask?" He questioned surprised… well that was unusual…

"Yes…" She hummed in thought, giving him a quick once over. "You don't seem the type to hide battle scars…" She continued to survey his appearance as she thought about it. "Nor does it seem to be some peculiar fashion statement… it's far too simple to be something of the like…"

"Why, Guinevere, I never knew you were so observant," he smirked at her. "So why do you believe I wear such a _plain_ mask?"

"Well…" She looked thoughtful. "I doubt it's to mask your reactions, I believe you probably don't need such a flimsy shield to hide your expressions from others. So, I'd have to say it's a complete mystery to me, though it does leave one intrigued."

"Why I'm greatly fond of catching such a fine woman's interest," he took an amused note on the way she forced herself not to act shocked from such a statement. "I have to question what alternative motives you may have."

"No motives Sadiq," she rolled her eyes, grinning as Portugal walked over, sending a menacing glare over at the Turkish man and handed Guinevere a glass of the finest wine he had, before the Nation stormed off after Spain's infuriating insistence.

"You've got that boy wrapped around your fingers," Sadiq commented as Guinevere took a rewarding sip from her drink.

"Portugal is just far too nice…" she sent her companion a look. "Or at least to those he likes… or tolerates… _then_ he's lovely."

They fell into a mildly pleasant silence. Important people and Nations socialising around them, dancers passing by each other in the repetitively dull pattern they had created; maids giggling as lords flirted for the hope of a one off.

"So, going to sedate my curiosity Sadiq?" The blonde woman questioned politely, giving him an infuriatingly determined look.

"Why I only share such precious knowledge with those I trust," he smirked towards the blonde. "And I believe you're a Nation that shouldn't be simply trusted."

"You offend a woman Sadiq," she tutted, before smiling. "So how shall I gain enough trust to be let in on such a secret?"

"It depends on the person," he started as Guinevere gave an inquiring gaze, her lips lingering on the rim of her glass. "And for one as lovely as you I guess seeing my face will suffice."

"Oh," she raised a brow up looking highly amused. "So, if I was to snatch it from you or if it was to simply fall off I'd gain your trust?"

"Or you could simply ask."

"Why then Sadiq, may I see the face you frustratingly hide?" She questioned after a light laugh.

"Anything for you," he smirked teasingly. Pulling his self up right, he let both hands trail up to the white mask that sat snugly under his flamboyant hat. He pulled it off slowly, as Guinevere surveyed him with her daring emerald eyes.

"Sadiq I do believe that's cheating," she chided half disappointed, half annoyed, that once the white mask was completely off his hat cast a dark shadow across his face. All that could be seen was his amused smirk.

"Well Guinevere you should have known," and the blonde watched him a little bit, before laughing.

"I should have, shouldn't have I?"

.

_Even with the veil of dark shadows, she'd find a way to see him clearly…_

_Turkey_

.**  
>5. Seeking Solace <strong>

.

Guinevere Kirkland had always been a strong individual (to say the least). She had sailed the seven seas fiercely stealing from Nations that others cowered away from in fear. She had fought for all she was worth against some of the most ruthless invaders. And had forced (physically or otherwise) respect for her empire, being a woman should after all have no effect on what her people were capable of.

It was with this in mind that the blonde female had pushed herself off the mud coated ground, sent the most menacing glare possible toward America and his allies (those annoying and loathsome individuals) and returned to the sea… after all she knew a lost cause when she saw one, and her people had lost… they had lost badly and she knew somewhere her old colony was celebrating his independence with much glee and it crushed her, even if she didn't want to believe it.

She had spent the next few weeks directing her crew mindlessly across the ocean, the sea's calming presence numbing her somewhat. Supplies were running low; her men growing weak, so that when one of her men spotted land, there was no way they weren't going to dock, no matter what country they landed in or what she had to say about it.

After a few struggling hours they had managed to anchor the ship and row in to shore. They had landed in a seemingly barren land, the sand seemed dull; the land seemed dull, the _sky_ seemed dull… Guinevere sighed as her crew dispersed, looking for sighs of food, drink and civilization.

The blonde groaned and wandered off in a completely different direction, quite content with laying down somewhere and allowing the sun's rays to kill her of dehydration (not that she'd actually die of it, but it was still the principle). This didn't seem like any land she knew… not that she particularly cared at the moment.

"_Sad_?" She heard a cute voice question slowly, hesitantly and in a completely different language to her own. She blinked and looked down at the young brown haired boy who shuffled from foot to foot, looking completely clueless, but curious.

She had never seen the little Nation before. She looked around and saw no other Nations or people to look after the little boy. She sighed and knelt down and looked into the boys curious green eyes.

"Where's your family… or care taker?" She questioned, though she knew the boy didn't understand as he tilted his head at, before he broke out in a big grin.

He pointed between his happy filled smile and her, and chirped a word repetitively in his own language.

"I don't really… understand…" She shrugged, and looked away, the overly happy boy reminding her of another little Nation that she wasn't particularly fond of at the moment.

Before she knew what was happening she felt tiny hands tugging the side of her mouth up into a forced smile and the little brunette grinned while nodding as though he had just created some master piece. And before Guinevere had time to comprehend what was happening she felt her eyes overfill.

The little Nation looked panicked as he watched water slide down the woman's cheeks. Looking every which way as though trying to find someone to help, after finding no one he quickly turned back determined. He pulled his self towards Guinevere's confused face and kissed each of her eyes clumsily as though these tears were some kind of wound.

And Guinevere guessed they kind of were. Laughing lightly at her own stupidity, of course everything would hurt she had just lost someone she loved dearly, and the little Nations kindness she wiped at her eyes and smiled down at the little Nation, that she wouldn't mind looking after if he didn't have anyone else. She muttered the only thing she could think to say that showed only a minimum of her gratitude for the comfort (whether the tiny Nation realised he had done so or not)…

"Thank you."

.

_Even before they knew each other he was willing to protect and comfort her…_

_Australia_

.**  
>6. Break Away <strong>

.

Denmark was being far too overbearing, far more demanding and Sweden couldn't stand it. He had tried to speak to Denmark about it, but Denmark was far too loud and Sweden was far too quiet. And he had no idea what to do about everything.

Strangely enough the answer came at the next World meeting. The hall was large and grand, food and drink set up along one table that spread out beside the large windows, music roaming gracefully around the room from the band that had blended into the shadows in one corner of the room, and the rest of the room was an amass of space for dancing and chairs for those who didn't wish to dance.

Sweden usually found his self on the chairs with some of the other Nordic Nations. And that's where he found his self, with Norway and Iceland, as Finland went around happily socialising, and Denmark went over to the drinks to try and out drink Prussia.

He was watching Denmark at the time wondering exactly how in the world he was going to go about everything with the Nation. When he saw Denmark and Prussia stop and quickly bolt in different directions as a long haired blonde woman approach them with hell seemingly following her.

Denmark spotted him and Norway and rushed towards them yelling something back to the blonde haired woman. Her glare intensified and she stalked after him as Denmark, quickly sat beside them as though he had been there the whole time.

"Denmark!" The woman growled, as the Nation in question, muttered something about his axe. "So _King of Northern Europe_," it was drawled far too sarcastically. "What's this rumour I hear Prussia and you have been spreading?"

"Well…" His blue eyes darted everywhere, before grinning at the blonde. "It couldn't have been too farfetched England, because people believed us!"

And he ran off, before she could hit him. She stalked after him, her eyes burning with rage and the promised threat of death.

Sweden on the other hand was enlightened, looking at the small blonde woman. England had once been stuck with Denmark like he was now and she had escaped him, and here she was now trying to kill the man and actually getting away with such a feat… Maybe he could just leave Denmark's house… Like she had…

.

_Sometime's the idea of breaking Away can be scary, but when that happens we just need a little someone to help us through…_

_Sweden_

.**  
>7. Heaven <strong>

.

He was dead. He had been dead for centuries and centuries. The last she saw of him was when he left her shores, war ridden and scars of all sorts covered his being. He smiled at her as he usually would, though this time instead of telling her to be good and to not start another rebellion until he could return and put her straight; he wished her the best for the future. He left and others came, but he was the only one to successfully and completely take over her land (though she had a few close calls).

And she was never going to see him again, but then that was a given for the dead. Of course that was the strange thing… she _did_ see him again.

It had been an unusual affair. She had been playing around with a different type magic. She had read about it before from Germania. The Germanic Nation had told her he was able to create the wishing stars in the sky with this magic and she had never dared read up more on it until she was sure she was strong enough to use it.

But it had been a long time since the Ancient Nations of old walked among them and the people who believed in magic had slowly lessened. It was a safer time for if anything went wrong, and it was a safer time for her to keep the book hidden from other roaming eyes that might try and abuse it.

She had been going through reading spell after spell, when she came across a… strange spell. A necessarily spell it seemed. The other spells in the book were useless without mastering this spell it seemed.

So with a few days of getting everything right and ready, she sung the spell out and allowed a blaringly white light to devour her whole being. Her emerald eyes snapped shut as the light stung them. She hunched over as a searing pain stuck her back.

She tried to breath, but it was hard… very hard.

"You can open your eyes now Britannia," she heard an overly cheerful voice that made her freeze. She felt arms pull her into a tight hug, and her eyes opened quickly in shock and looked up at the face looming happily above hers.

"R… Rome!" She squealed in confusion. Why was he here? He _was_ dead… wasn't he?

"Aw, Britannia you're an angel!" he cheekily cheered, grinning. Though only two words crept through her shock… Britannia and angel…

She looked behind her at the large white wings that spread out majestically from her shoulder blades. Then back into the bright amber eyes above her.

"What…" She was confused; greatly confused the spell didn't usually work like this, right?

"Germania wondered when you'd use his spells…" The Roman pondered. "Though he didn't think I'd be brought down!"

"What's going on?" She managed to stutter.

"Well Britannia-"

"It's England," she cut in quickly, but he ignored her.

"To use the spells you need an angels help it seems. So you take on their wings, while the angel you're borrowing the wings from gets to play around on Earth for a bit," the Roman laughed. "And so you see Britannia-"

"It's England!"

His eyes narrowed down and she glared right back not phased at all, before he smirked.

"Still stubborn as ever Britannia," and before she could cut him off he added. "Angel. So, anyways while I'm playing around on Earth you can play around with some spells!"

He started to head off leaving a bewildered girl behind, before stopping and looking over his shoulder.

"You've turned out more beautiful than I ever dreamed you would Britannia!" He smiled. "Looking mighty gorgeous especially in a Roman toga!"

She spluttered as she looked down and realised that yes her clothes had changed as well as gaining wings… what the-

"See you later Britannia!" He cheered, running from her house. "I have some adorable Grandsons to check on quickly then I'll be back!"

"Wait… What…!" So… Rome had seemingly decided death wasn't a good enough reason to stop bothering her…

.

_He had always been the one to watch over her, and he's continuing so in Heaven…_

_Rome_

.**  
>8. Innocence <strong>

.

Guinevere groaned as she entered the local pub and moaned at the thought of all the other Nations being there. Of course the world meeting had to be held in England and they knew where to go to get away with her having to pay for all the drinks (the man who worked there had picked up that the other Nations were her _friends_ and started putting the money from their drinks of her tab and the other Nations were too _nice_ to deny such a matter… Damn them).

She entered to see a majority of the Nations already leaving her a huge debt created from a large drinking contest. She narrowed her eyes, but couldn't help but laugh when Prussia splashed some of his beer onto France's new fashionable and expensive outfit.

She shook her head, she'd let them off this time… though only this time and it was only cause some of her old Colonies looked like they were having a blast. She smiled and snuck over to a dark corner of the bar, she'd let them off but she wasn't going to deal with them when they were beyond wasted.

She sat down only to see a small blonde Nation sat next to her. He physically only looked about 15 and she remembered him to Latvia, who Sealand always affectionately called Raivis.

"Latvia," she called out to him, he looked up and smiled shakily and raised his hand to wave only to have second thoughts and put his hands in his lap.

"Hi… hi… Eng… England…" He stuttered.

"What are you doing here Latvia?" She questioned lightly.

"Well… well… I was… going to… have… a drink… with the others… but…" he looked down at his self. "I… look… really… _really_ young… so…"

She smiled, remembering back when she looked as young as Latvia did, she used to always drink, though back then she was going around terrorising the seas and a pirate couldn't be a pirate without a good drink. She smiled and ordered two drinks, sneakily passing one to Latvia; after all he was much older than he looked.

"I won't tell anyone if you don't," she smiled, and the little Nation nodded and shakily thanked her.

Ah to be young and innocent again…

.

_Innocence is a hard thing to be both inside and out, but somehow he manages…_

_Latvia_

.**  
>9. Drive <strong>

.

Finland had his hands securely wrapped around England's. He didn't want her to do anything wrong, she knew how to ride a horse, but a sleigh was harder and he didn't want her to do anything that caused her harm. So he had his finger relaxed around hers as he sat behind her smiling.

She had a long thick red coat on, a scarf wrapped around her neck and looked far too hot for comfort. He wore a matching scarf and a long blue coat twice as thick as England's, but he had no problem with the warmth they brought.

"Sleigh riding is fun, right?" He questioned, helping her guide the reindeer forward.

"Ye… Yes…" She managed to answer, but groaned. "But why show me how to ride your sleigh in the summer?" She breathed deeply the sun above them burning hot. "Wouldn't it make more sense to learn in the winter… with some snow…?"

Finland smiled brightly though the blonde woman didn't see it.

"Guinevere, in the winter we'll both be twice as busy, and I want you to enjoy a good sleigh ride, so let's enjoy the Christmas festives a little early!" he started humming some Christmas songs, and she sighed, though the smile on her face told a completely different story.

.

_He was well known for his love of festivals and a ride in his sleigh was more than enough proof…_

_Finland_

.**  
>10. Breathe Again <strong>

.

"Guin! I like totally heard what that Nazi idiot did!" The young flamboyant blonde called, bursting into his ally's room without consequence.

He blinked and looked around the room; usually England would've tried hitting him for bursting into the room without knocking or at least have some snide remark or even politely offered some tea with scones (it really depended on what kind of mood she was in). But today… he was greeted with nothing?

Strange…

He entered the room slowly, glancing at every shadow and corner of the room. What if Ludwig had paid her a visit, he remembered the last visit he received from the German and his Russian ally and shivered. They had no right to treat Guinevere in the same fashion they has him… it was far too ruthless and no matter how strong the woman was, no one deserved to suffer that horribly.

"Guin…" He called out hesitantly, the fiery female Nation was too strong to simply fall from the Russian and German Nation, right? She was the British Empire after all!

"Guin!" He called out more confidently, making sure not to leave one area unturned, she had to be around and alive!

As he looked behind the desk that stood proudly by the large glass windows of Guinevere's office he saw a sight that could've been considered angelic if he didn't know why she was there. Her blonde hair was sprawled out every which way, long blonde eyelashes bound elegantly together to cover her beautiful emerald eyes. One of her hands securely wrapped around her waist, while her other slumped awkwardly against her chest, her legs curled around each other.

She almost looked peaceful laying there, and he would've left her so she could get a good night's rest, better to let her get a little shut eye spread across the floor than to let her continue with her restless worried filled nights if she was breathing. But that was the thing she wasn't…

"Guin!" He panicked, rushing over to her side, pushing her onto her back and without thinking crashed his lips against hers, breathing into her.

He pulled away, and started looking for the space you were meant to push down against through CPR. In his panicked haze he somehow managed to find it and start the strong, but not too strong pushes. He worked fast as one did when they had a life in their hands.

"Come on Guinevere!" He called helplessly. "This like can't make you fall!"

And he started the process all over again. Breathe in… 1… 2… 3… 4… Push down quickly and effectively, he did so twenty times even though he was sure he was meant to press down more… or maybe less. Breathe in… and…

She coughed!

She spluttered to life, eyes snapping wildly open; her irises swirled with pain… so much pain. She looked around helplessly, towards him, towards the window and before she could get a word in edge wise, she was brought into a strong hug. Felik's muttered his relief, ignored the embarrassment that wanted to flare to life on his cheeks and swore he wouldn't let any more bomb fall on England's land throughout this war…

He'd fight with Ludwig in the sky and he'd make sure he won…

.

_And with a breath of fresh air he helped her breathe again…_

_Poland_**  
><strong>.

**A/N:**

_And here we are a start of another drably thing done by me, but wait! What's this? This story isn't just created by me (Live-Like-its-heaven-on-earth… maybe I should change my name to something more creative…) and my dear and darling friend for far too many years now: tenants-midnight-wolf (she's obsessed with David Tennant if you're wandering, which I know you are)._

_OK, so we split the themes between us then I edit, then she edits and thus the stories are changed so much that you can't tell that our writing styles are so horribly different, or you should be able to at least. And we're gonna try and get as many different pairings as possible cause we're cool like that X3_

_Ah I think that's all, though a bunch of these drabbles (especially the Rome one) wants me to make a bunch of longer series fanfics… though I won't… For now!_

_K, anyway read, review, alert, fav and give helpful advice on how to improve we love such things after all!_

_Till next chapter (which will probably be in a week and a halves time, cause we have to add finishing touches to our art work for the end of this week… though knowing us we'll probably ignore the deadline till the very last day… ANYWAYS! We hope you enjoyed!)_


	2. The Next Batch

**The next batch:**

**11. Memory **

.

South Italy didn't have any fond memories surrounding a certain blonde haired woman. Romano was sure she was the only woman he couldn't possibly say one polite thing about, but then after all it was _her_.

He had first met her when Spain had control of him. He had been hiding under Spain's bed in the hopes of escaping his caretaker's torturous affection, when he heard the hushed angry argument approaching. He cowered in the furthest corner under the bed and when the door was all but slammed open he begged silently to every God that he wouldn't be found.

"Why won't you accept?" He heard the low dangerous voice whisper and heard the faint laughter of a woman's voice.

"Why should I Spain?" A loud angry noise was heard. Romano ducked his head down as quietly as he could, he didn't want to be the one to disturb the silence, but his curiosity was getting the better of him. He saw Spain's feet near the woman's, who seemed to be leaning against the wall casually.

"Your country shall fall," he heard the soft Spanish voice drawl mockingly.

Not too long after the woman left and the following morning an angry Empire followed. Romano didn't see Spain for months and months, and when the man returned he was bloodied, broken and crushed.

Romano had done all he could to avoid the woman who had made the happy nation who looked after him like this. He had shared terrifying stories of pirates to his brother, so that when they had somehow accidently caught her through the World Wars they were so used to avoiding her, even when their countries were meant to be negotiating treaties, that they had no idea on what to do.

They somehow got her behind bars, and Feli went to call Germany and Prussia over and for once Romano was happy to have the potato bastards' help. She had escaped a few times, but nevertheless Germany always managed to catch her much to her chagrin.

But it would be Romano who was stuck guarding her every following night. He cursed, and silently cried as he strolled as slowly as he dared towards the prison. He heard the potato bastard speaking loudly to the blonde haired woman.

"What is the point in escaping anymore England?" He heard the stupid bastard question, and Romano snuck in as silently as he possibly could, so he didn't disturb any _important_ conversations. "France has fallen and given up. America isn't helping you this time. And your land and your people are being bombed. There is no point in defying us anymore, you can join us and we won't make you lose any of your empire. So why continue to escape?"

The blonde haired woman pointedly looked away, her emerald eyes landed on Romano and the Italian felt his self freeze as those eyes saw through him. He felt like she could kill him with a look, he felt like he should run before something horrible happened, before she bewitched him, before she took out some secret weapon and killed him, or before she…

Smiled? She smiled sweetly, a sweet that took hundreds of years to perfect, a sweet that could not be faked.

"Hello Romano," she called.

The German looked up and sighed as he gave Romano a nod of acknowledgement. He turned back to the blonde in front of him.

"Think on it England. Your Kingdom is vast; do you want it to fall, like your allies?" And he left leaving Romano to add more horrifying imagery to his memories of England, a stubborn blonde woman who was willing to dig her way out of a prison cell, and would allow her colonies and family to fall with her. A horrible woman… that for once he saw clearly in front of him, with her deadly but beautiful looks as she casually leaned against the wall… in an overly exposed Italian dress that sadly suited her perfectly…

The next time he met her, was long after the war, long after her petrifying punk phase where she not only destroyed her own Prime-Minster's car a few times, but dragged Prussia into her games, making the world overly panicked about the two thinking that invading a country would be fun. Luckily she passed that phase and now for the first time in his known history he was actually turning up to a meeting that involved England on the other side of the table.

Since the war had ended he couldn't get rid of those images of her in the Italian dress, quite content to lean against the wall, until she found the perfect escape route, which one day she managed to find all thanks to her colonies, dominions and a certain ex-colony.

He entered the meeting room to find England already in a large comfy chair, her head resting against the table in front of her, her blonde hair splayed out across the table: asleep. And it was in that second that Romano realised something. His memories of her were wrong and misguided. She wasn't a demon or a monster…

He lightly shook her awake, just as their bosses entered the room. She groaned lightly, and looked around with a yawn, before she saw Romano and suddenly looked sheepish.

"Ah… I'm sorry Romano; I only got off the plane, so I'm kind of tired…" She apologised; he said it was alright and hurried over to his boss, blushing profoundly.

No she wasn't a monster… She was a seductress that had captured Spain and the potato bastard's interest before… and maybe… just maybe… his as well…

.

_When he looked passed his judgemental memories he found a beautiful woman, that like some rare jewel he was too afraid to touch…_

_South Italy_

.**  
>12. Insanity <strong>

.

Sealand burst through England's house, smashing door after door open looking for the blonde haired female that he somehow looked so alike that he was tortured every time he looked at his reflection… he didn't want to look like such a jerk after all!

He opened a large oak door (he had always wanted to kick the door open to show how cool and Nation-like he was, but always thought better of it). Inside the blonde haired female stood, she leant to the side, her hand put thoughtfully to her chin as she stared emotionlessly down at the table in front of her.

Sealand stomped over towards her, but she didn't look up, she stayed in the same position; her eyes calmly travelling across whatever was in front of her. Sealand scraped one of the large mahogany chairs across the floor so it was beside the English Nation. Climbing onto the chair he stood as tall as he could beside her and let his eyes stare at what was on the table in front of her.

It was a map… a large map… an old map with every country of the world. The edges were ripped, torn and creased. The boarders between countries had been changed and gained more shape than the original outline of each country. Large cut marks (that Sealand imagined England had caused by throwing a knife repetitively at the map) tore across some of the countries, mainly countries like France that had the words: "ENEMY" scratched across. Some countries had their names lovingly draped over their land such as Canada, under his name Claimed, Colony and Dominion had roughly been crossed out and Commonwealth replaced it.

"England you need a new map..." The blonde didn't reply, but spared him an emotionless glance; her eyes held nothing but emptiness: a dark sorrow that felt bottomless. She turned back to the map silently.

Sealand huffed then went back to the map, determined to find his name and what she had written under his name, was it something horrible now that he wasn't hers, he doubted she would've put brother, as she had put some choice words next to Scotland and Ireland. He scanned the land around England and smiled when he came across his nearly nonexistent dot, but it didn't last long… as the words that he wanted to read were stained and blurred completely together with some tea stains, that he almost imagined Guinevere dropping then shrugging when she saw where it had landed.

"Hey!" He howled. "That's not fair!" He looked up at the startled green eyes as she looked down at him blinking in surprise. "Why didn't you rewrite my name? I'm an important Nation!"

She sent him a look before attempting to turn back to the map, but Sealand was angry and decided to do something to stop her going back to whatever task she was attempting to do. Sure she didn't see him as a proper Nation, but she usually talked to him, looked at him, she even helped when he had caught fire! She never looked at him with such crazed eyes… NEVER!

He climbed on the table and sat directly in front of her, blocking her vision and stopping her from looking at the map.

"Jerk sister!" He yelled loudly, so that the blonde in front of him had to cover her ears. "Why are you looking at some stupid old broken map?" He glared, when she continued to give him that look he had seen so many times before. "Instead of staring at some stupid map you could come and say hello to us colonies!"

"You weren't a colony Peter," she continued staring and walked a little further up the table, hands gripping either side as she leaned over the map.

"What do-"

"Only countries can be colonies…" She looked up with the darkest look he had ever seen. "And you aren't a country Peter…"

"Eng-"

"Just leave Peter."

It was a final command, and Sealand looked around hoping to find something to change her mind or to gain a little extra time for her to change her mind. Neither came, so he stood up, slowly left the room and curled in on his self on the other side of the door, the door that separated England from the rest of the world through her insane moments. He'd stay there until she left, he knew she'd leave and look for him to say sorry in her own awkward way… eventually…

Sweden had explained that the old empires sometimes went through these stages, where they feel like their mind is slowing being torn apart, where they think they're going to die… where they feel a need for power and that they contemplate trying to take over the world again. Sweden had also explained it was better for someone to be around to help them snap out of it, the curse of being almost completely immortal Sweden had told him.

Sweden had Finland, Finland had Sweden, but his other important person didn't have anyone… so Sealand swore to always be around for England… even if she said hurtful things… she just needed a moment, and he'd always bring the lonely nation back to her senses, it was his duty! He wouldn't let something as stupid as insanity to take her away!

.

_He couldn't understand what insanity entitled, but he knew it was something awful, so he wouldn't let it affect her…_

_Sealand_

.**  
>13. Misfortune <strong>

.

She had found herself outside her old conquers house. She hadn't seen Denmark outside of social meetings (which were scarce in the first place) in a long, _long_ time and she hadn't expected it would be her to turn up to his house. She had always expected him to try and take over her land again, as he had always seemed like an unmovable source that would stubbornly believe in only his thoughts alone.

So when Norway had paid her a visit a few months ago explaining what was going on and how Sweden and Finland had left the union between Denmark and some of the other Nordic countries and Norway was even thinking of leaving, apparently Denmark had done something rather idiotic, she hadn't expected to hear of the positive results on Sweden's side. Sure Sweden was strong, but probably no more so than Denmark.

After a long inner debate she had decided to pay the man a visit, he was definitely not the type to just give up. But when she found herself outside the man's house she hadn't the courage to just knock on his door and enter. She hadn't seen him in centuries and this was the first time she was willingly walking up to one of her past invaders houses…

She was just about to knock the door when it opened up completely, revealing the Dane, dressed in his usual long black jacket, read top underneath, and that square hat that Norway had told her he adored a little _too_ much. His blonde hair fell into his shocked eyes and apart from the customary clothes she had been told he had taken a liking too, he looked completely sloppy and a bit out of it… definitely not his usual cheerful self.

"Guinevere…?" He questioned, highly confused: why was she of all people here?

"Ah… hi…?" She waved a little uncertain, before the blonde's eyes narrowed slightly.

"If you're here to gloat on me losing power then _don't_ it's-"

"Wait… what?" She interrupted, hands in the air as though to calm the Dane down- it didn't work.

"Well, it's highly convenient that the second Sweden's left with Finland you appear, don't you think? You probably wanted to be the first to gloat! I mean there's no other reason you'd visit right? You're the kind of person who holds grudges about conquering land, so why else would you visit someone who controlled you? Why else would you suddenly visit-"

A well executed fist to the stomach stopped the ex-Viking from going on. He coughed and spluttered as the woman's fist managed to collide in the right spot to knock the wind out of him. Coughing he glared up at the feisty female Nation.

"Or _maybe_, just maybe I came over worried after what Norway said," she glared back, and waited for Denmark to get his breathe back before saying anything else.

"Worried…" He managed to wheeze out after a minute or so, and England's face was engulfed in a red flame.

"Well… Well… not worried per say… ah it was… was… Norway who came to me worried… So…" Denmark watched as the blonde tried to splutter out excuses… and smiled.

It wasn't good to stay miserable forever was it? There was always going to be some silver lining peeking through wasn't there (even if it took a few years to appear)? His just came in the form of a socially awkward blonde, who had the ability to stop him breathing and make him smile…

.

_With her around misfortune wasn't going to keep him down for long…_

_Denmark_

.**  
>14. Smile <strong>

.

He lent forward on the table, elbows propped up; so his chin could lean on the palm of his hand, where the material of his clothing gathered in clusters. He leaned forward enough so he could relax his weight against the table and lift his legs off the floor slightly. He watched the woman in front of him.

She frowned and looked highly annoyed, but he couldn't blame her for she was doing all that paper work, and who could blame someone for not enjoying paper work? And he could happily say paper work was _not_ created in Korea, who would want to be known for creating something so bland and boring?

"Why are you watching me?" She suddenly looked up, glaring at the Nation opposite her.

He blinked and watched her face, she had striking features: pale, but filled with life, small but so tall; scrawny but too strong. The representation for England didn't even begin to look like she had achieved all she had. But what got him wasn't her appearance, or her eyes that portrayed what she was feeling easily, but her lips.

Why was she always frowning?

Surely smiling was better…?

So why did she feel the need to frown all the time?

"You know…" He started smiling brightly. "You should smile more; I bet you'd have a cute smile!"

"There's no point in smiling all the time," she tutted, looking away. "It's pointless."

He tugged her hair to try and pull her face back. She sighed and followed the movement, glaring at him.

"It's not a pointless thing! Smiling in a wonderful creation!" He smiled to make a point. "And I know you'd have a wonderful smile, do you know why?" He paused for a moment, but not long enough for her to reply. "I know because smiling was created in Korea and anything created in Korea is guaranteed to be brilliant on everyone. So you should smile!"

She openly stared for a few moments, the nation in front of her just grinned happily, completely serious. She snorted lightly before laughing uncontrollably.

"Oh God, you're as bad as America!"

"Thank you," he cheered and smiled after she stopped laughing and she couldn't help the smile that was on her face, it was just stuck there. "See!" He called after admiring his work for a little while. "You look more than cute with such a happy face!"

Guinevere managed to keep a straight face for a few moments before bursting into fits of laughter again, why was she always surrounded by such idiots?

.

_He created smiling so of course it would look wonderful on her…_

_South Korea_

.**  
>15. Silence <strong>

.

It was a beautifully warm day, with a gentle breeze that whispered of the winter just past. The breeze wrapped around her arms and she was glad she had decided to bring her long red coat with her, for it provided enough warmth so the cold didn't affect her, but not enough to make the light rays of sunlight to bake her. Ah, just the usual unpredictable English weather Guinevere was used to.

In her lap she had a particularly large history book. She had taken it off the shelf in her library just after lunch and decided to enjoy the spring weather by reading it outside. Going to the park she lived near she began to read the large book, holding back laughing when she came to a part of history that was so inaccurate it was only funny, containing her anger when it came to a part of history she detested and forced her tears back when she came to an awful part of her history. These history books were like hers and the other countries autobiographies and that… saddened her to say the least, they had had some awful phases…

She yawned and looked around when she heard children laughing. People were starting to roam around: children, teenagers and adults alike. A quick glance at her watch proved it to be late, almost six to be precise, the god awful rush hour. She slowly let her and the other countries' story shut tight, deciding the book didn't need a bookmark of any kind she knew what was to happen after all.

"Well it has been nice talking to you," she jumped as she heard a voice mutter beside her. She turned to see the silver-white haired teenager beside her. He wore his old and overly worn brown jacket and Guinevere could see the elbows of the jacket were changing colour from the overuse and a few patches that needed to be sown. The jacket seemed even worse with the white shirt underneath that had no marks on and a fancy ribbon around the neck.

"We should do it again someday…" And he stood up flustered and rushed off and Guinevere could only blink and watch after the man, and question what the hell Iceland was going on about…

.

_Sometimes silence was all the conversation that was needed…_

_Iceland_

.**  
>16. Questioning <strong>

.

"England!" A child who looked about ten pushed a large door open and slammed it behind them, so their annoying older brother couldn't follow.

"England!" The child screamed loudly, practically crying their eyes out as they searched the room for their guardian. The second they had found out England had come to their house to visit they ran towards home screaming.

"… England…" They sniffled, almost crying. They slowly pushed forward… she had to be around somewhere.

They heard the door behind them gently open and turned to yell at Australia, he wasn't wanted around so he should get lost and… But Australia was wrapped around the person they were looking for.

"England…!" They cried and ran over clinging to the blonde woman's waist and continued to mutter her name over and over again.

Above Guinevere looked down at Australia who furiously shook his head no.

"I didn't _do_ ANYTHING!" He yelled, stomping his foot and clinging to their blonde caretaker tighter.

"He did!" The younger Nation cried and pulled away slightly, eyes now filled with the unshed tears. They pulled up their trouser leg to reveal a small cut. "He pushed me out of a tree…"

"You threatened to push me off a cliff!" The Australian yelled back.

"'Cause you threatened to push me out of a tree!"

"And if I didn't get you first, you would have got me!"

"Stop the both of you," Guinevere called over them; they stopped but continued to glare at each other. "Australia go to your room I'll come and talk to you in a minute…"

The Australian stomped, and complained about England always siding against him, but did as he was told. Guinevere sighed and knelt down to the others eyes level.

"So what's really wrong New Zealand?" She questioned and continued before the youngest blond made some lie up. "I know you and Australia have had worse fights and you've never once cried over those cuts and bruises…"

When the little Nation didn't say anything, Guinevere picked New Zealand up and carried the small Nation to the kitchen where the first aid was. Setting the little Nation on the table she went to the cupboards to take bandages and ointments out.

"So…" She started.

"Australia said I wasn't a girl…" The blonde muttered and Guinevere almost coughed, but before she could say anything to that the younger Nation continued. "And I want to be a girl, 'cause you're a girl… and I want to be like you… So I am a girl right?"

And Guinevere was shocked, what the hell was she going to say to that?

.

_And it was these questions that made her decide to never have any more colonies…_

_New Zealand_

.**  
>17. Blood <strong>

.

She somehow always stole his attention. He could be giving his precious Romano some well deserved attention or hanging out with Prussia and France and all she had to do was breathe and he'd end up staring. The beautifully pale flesh that delicately wrapped around her wrists was just translucent enough that he could see delightful blue veins underneath that hid her life. Her determined forest green eyes that never looked away before the poor soul who was caught staring did; her eternally messy blonde hair had such an unrefined beauty to it that he just _had_ to be the one caught staring. It was her who always found a way to capture his easily distracted attention and even though she didn't realise it he couldn't help but blame her, cursing her for putting some bewitched spell on him.

So it was expected that when he found his self face to face with the sea devil, while helping France win this war, he just stared. Stared as she ripped through his crew, Spanish and French fell to the floor both in a bloody mess, both hated and as unimportant as the other. France cursed beside him but he didn't particularly care, he was frozen watching her graceful movements as with her sword and gun she brutally murdered another of his men… then another of Frances, then his until… It was just them.

She grinned a vicious grin towards them, France cursed the woman before them in his own tongue and he stared. Just stared… transfixed on the blonde's face as the tiniest drop of blood slowly fell down the left side of her face. Not hers… surely not!

She approached them. Her footsteps echoed all around as she approached with calculated ease. Her emerald eyes flashed as her crew howled, she wanted to mock the two _powerful_ Nations, but even so there was still a war going on around them that she was determined to win…

He slowly prowled towards her when she stood frozen in debate for awhile and smiled his normal smile. It annoyed her and he knew.

"_Inglaterra_," he purred when close enough, he wasn't beat yet and had plenty of energy to tease her… while he could. "I'm sorry we have nothing here to entertain your fancy." He purposefully smirked back at France who looked thoroughly annoyed.

When he turned back towards her, she had her arms folded in front of her, her emerald eyes half lidded and whatever her sweet voice was about to say wasn't heard as he zoned in on the blood. It painted her pale white skin easily, as though her skin was a canvas for the sinful liquid. He smiled at the thought of it being one of his men's, Spanish blood tainting English land; he revelled in the feeling of tainting her, of marking her, of making her his and only his. He'd have killed hundreds of his men to taint her further.

But… his eyes narrowed. It could have just as easily been French blood and France had tainted her far too much already. Owned her for awhile, claimed her, and built so many historic building across her land, securing his power over her… Power he shouldn't have over her.

Dipping his head in close; as slowly as he dared he licked the blood away. Wiping away the masterpiece from the beautifully clear canvas in front of him, he let his olive eyes trail up to her emerald ones and grinned as goofily as he dared.

"You had some blood on you, but don't worry I sorted it out."

.

_Only he was allowed to taint her and he'd make sure the thought didn't even cross anyone else's mind…_

_Spain_

.**  
>18. Rainbow <strong>

.

"England!" The brown haired Ozzie grinned, grabbing onto England's hand, and much to her chagrin he had grown taller than her, just like the rest of her old colonies, though he always enjoyed being able to tease her about it.

"Australia," she looked up at him from the corner of her eye and he grinned brightly.

"I'm glad you agreed to come to my birthday party," and God he knew how much she hated being reminded that they had all left her, but he didn't want to celebrate without her.

"I didn't really have a choice when you appeared at my house yesterday," he heard her sigh and grinned. He knew if she was completely against the idea she would have stopped him, he knew she was sneaky when she needed to be.

"Aw, don't be like that England!" He grinned and pulled her along, and then looked at the sky when it suddenly started to rain. "Aw, see all your frowning brought the rain with you!"

"Don't like it, don't invite me," she growled when the brown haired Nation only grinned at her.

"But, I'd be sad if you didn't come with your depressing weather," he whined bringing the blonde into a bone crushing hug much to her annoyance. "See…" He drawled pointing to the sky. "When my amazingly cheerful weather clashes with your sad rain, we make rainbows…"

England looked up at the sky above and true to his word a rainbow was starting to form, bold and brightly in the sky. He grinned down at her and she shook her head as he started dragging her towards his house again.

"I hope you brought me a brilliant present!" He cheered. "I need to make the others jealous that you came to my birthday with little to no resistance, when you didn't turn up to theirs!"

"This was your plan from the beginning wasn't it Ozzie?" She drawled; glaring at her old colony's back.

"You bet Pommie!" He cheered happily, grinning over his shoulder and he threw a quick wink in for good measure. "And if the rainbow was all you brought with you, a kiss will suffice as a wonderful birthday present!"

.

_And together they were making rainbows…_

_Australia_

.**  
>19. Gray <strong>

.

He had heard of her, it was hard not too after all. She was growing in strength, growing so powerful and she was somehow winning impossible battles. He had heard of her sadistic smile; the talons she had that ripped flesh apart as though she wanted to kill everything. Her prideful golden mane that held enough ego to represent the whole world and striking green eyes that could seemingly see through even the slightest hint of change.

She had been described as a ferocious monster, a horrid creature that should be avoided. And he had somehow painted this image of her in grey, a dark and dreary grey, something more lonesome than all the dull snow that piled up around his house. He imagined that even he would feel a shiver roll up his spine when they met.

So, when he went to visit her land to make some trading alliances he found his self believing her country would be frozen solid, her people to be deformed into some kind of creepy demon like creature, and her standing above them all with a demonic glow in her eyes.

He was pleasantly surprised to find lush green grass, people laughing among each other as they went about their jobs and the sun sneakily shining around the few clouds that dotted across the too blue sky.

"You must be Russia," he heard a clearly female voice say, he turned around and looked down… quite a bit, to see a blonde haired woman.

She had long blonde hair that fanned out behind her, clear green eyes that shined as brightly as forests when the light hit them just right. She was slim, small and pale. But he saw no talons that wanted to kill or any other demonic presence at all.

He smiled the smile that others had dubbed as creepy and she smiled back with no problem. She was no demon, not at all.

And he changed his mind she wasn't grey, definitely not, she was more a luscious green, entwined with a rich gold and left out in the open for others colours to add into the midst if they needed too. She was bright and absolutely perfect… And he wanted to add his own colours into hers…

.

_Sometimes mixing colours can be better than standing on your own in a plain and dull world…_

_Russia_

.**  
>20. Fortitude<br>**.

He had never seemed to be physically strong, but he had had an empire. A strong and solid empire if there was something he wanted he would take it. It was how it had always been.

So when he had first met the scrawny blonde Nation he had decided he didn't want something so disgusting and foul. When he later learned from a smug Switzerland that he had just decided to insult England he hadn't believed him, England was an Empire much stronger than his own and was gaining even _more_ power fast.

He hadn't believed anyone until he had seen her fight. She had been fighting on his side, had joined him to fight France. And while France was on the opposing side she had kept her strength, and fought valiantly beside him for a little while. That was the first time he had truly believed she was England and decided that maybe he should make her and everything she owned a part of his empire as well...

He had soon decided after his fears were realised that there was no way to win her over. She had entered his war solely to fight France as he had earlier guessed and had left him at the mercy of Prussia when she couldn't fight France anymore. And at that moment when everyone's interest in her empire was raising she had eyes solely on one person, France… and until she had completely destroyed him there was seemingly little room for anyone else in her mind. There was no way he'd be considered a threat or a well planned alliance in her mind.

It was years later when all the empires had fallen, all the land was dished back out to who it belonged too that he had decided that strength was a fleeting thing that could favour someone else in an instant. It was at that moment he heard the sounds of fighting start up. Looking on the other side of the world meeting he saw England and France starting their usual brawl just as they always had done.

He sighed with a soft smile, maybe for some nothing was fleeting…

.

_Her strength had enraptured him in an everlasting tune…_

_Austria_

.

**A/N:**

_Ok! The next batch is here, we hope you enjoy. We've enjoyed your comments, and I loved that you guys all pointed out your favourites, so I'd love you guys if you did that again! _

_ALSO! Someone asked for some with the British Isles, but sadly we're sticking with only the cannon male characters to pair up with England, that also means no Portugal… though of course that doesn't mean there won't be any vague mention of them through the drabbles, as I'm sure you've seen we go a little insane with something's *sweat drop*_

_Also, my friend-ling is amazing, did you know she's like only watched the first series of Hetalia and is only used to those characters yet when we split all the characters up (each character and theme up to 100 has been pre-planned you see) she's mainly taken on characters she doesn't know… And America and N. Italy cause she adores those two (and they will appear in the next chapter by the way)!_

_And ok, we know I'm rambling so what else… um… Review, fav, alert and all that jazz. Let us know what you think of things and if you've read my other stories think I work better with my friend-ling or on my own, not that saying I work better on my own is going to stop me collabing with my friend-ling! K, Ah, hope you've enjoyed this bunch… and oh would like the drabbles to continue their randomness or would you like a more flirty one? Anyways until next time (which should be soonish)!_


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